


the one with the tattoos

by omphale23



Series: Personal Pineapples [3]
Category: Life, Standoff
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time, everything was a little hazy and it was dark and Charlie doesn't think he saw any of them, not before and not during and not after, when they were picking up the scattered clothing and getting dressed without looking at each other. Ted was already bitching about having the pool refilled with <i>bleach, Charlie, honestly, that was just unsanitary</i>, and Matt left fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one with the tattoos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caersmane](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=caersmane).



> Beta'ed by [](http://sansets.livejournal.com/profile)[**sansets**](http://sansets.livejournal.com/), who is the pretty pretty princess of the entire Enablers Crew.

Matt notices the ink the second time they have sex. The first time, everything was a little hazy and it was dark and Charlie doesn't think he saw any of them, not before and not during and not after, when they were picking up the scattered clothing and getting dressed without looking at each other. Ted was already bitching about having the pool refilled with _bleach, Charlie, honestly, that was just unsanitary_, and Matt left fast. Charlie doesn't think he saw anything.

But the second time, they've got hours in an empty house. The sun is slanting through the open window and the neighbors are having their lawn cut and it smells like the edge of summer. He feels it, the moment that Matt notices the ink on his hip. Matt freezes for an instant and then his fingers drift over the skin slowly, carefully, as if it still hurts. Charlie opens his eyes, and Matt's staring at his own hand, biting his lip.

He doesn't want to talk, and so Charlie reaches up and grabs Matt by the neck, distracts him from whatever he wants to ask. Afterwards, Matt props himself up on an elbow and runs his hand down Charlie's spine, wraps his hand around Charlie's hip until the tips of his fingers are back over the edge of the wide black outline again. Charlie knows Matt can feel the scars underneath, can trace them without looking, and he braces himself for a conversation he isn't ready to have.

Matt just inhales sharply, curls his body closer to Charlie and breathes out against the skin between his shoulder blades. Charlie shuts his eyes and when he wakes up Matt's hand is gone, they've unraveled into separate people again and the inches between them on the bed are cold and empty.

*

It's a few more weeks before Matt sees another set, wrapped over the back of Charlie's ribcage and so pale against his skin that they're almost invisible. They're more recent, added after his release from prison, and Charlie's not sure if he chose the white ink as a way of making a statement about the transience of living or just to keep people from asking questions. Matt spots them in the shower, runs his hands down Charlie's back and lower, spins Charlie and kisses him under the spray until the water runs cold.

They're both late for work that morning, but Reese takes one look at Charlie's face and walks away to get another coffee. Charlie uses the time she's gone to call a plumber and arrange for a bigger water heater.

*

After the scars heal from the shooting, he has the artist add a new design, one that only shows up beneath special lights, a design that isn't for anyone else. By the time Matt gets back, it's healed and unnoticeable beneath Charlie's sunburn.

He hasn't bargained on Matt's new unpredictability, his eagerness to show Charlie bits of his own history. Matt still owns posters from college that hang on his basement walls, ridiculous squares of fluorescent colors, names of bands Charlie has never heard. Matt flips a switch to illuminate them for Charlie, who's slumped on the couch, trying to catch his breath after one of Matt's better efforts at a post-arrest celebratory blowjob.

He's on the other side of the room when Charlie hears him stumble over a table in the weird not-dark.

Charlie's almost forgotten the designs, but Matt's choked breath reminds him. He reaches for a shirt, a blanket, something, but Matt steps forward, grabs Charlie's wrists and holds them out as he looks. His gaze flicks across the letters, lower to where they fade into curves and a scattering of rectangles, and then back to Charlie's face.

Charlie is about to explain, because he knows that these new marks are ridiculous, juvenile, probably unhealthy in ways he hasn't considered, but before he gets the words out, Matt drops to his knees and leans in and starts tracing the long lines of feathers with his tongue. Charlie loses his train of thought.

*

He doesn't get any others. It's pointless holding anything back from Matt, who takes the time to watch Charlie, to see him when he's trying to be invisible. And it isn't as if Matt disapproves—other than a strange gentleness in the way he runs his hands over Charlie's skin sometimes, a hot look in his eyes when Charlie's jeans ride lower on his hips than normal, nothing has changed. Still, the way it feels, knowing that when Matt touches him he's doing it even though he knows what Charlie is trying to hide, makes him wonder.

Matt doesn't have any tattoos, no ink to cover his scars or to proclaim past mistakes or celebrate the places he's survived. He doesn't seem to need them, but Charlie catches himself hesitating in front of shops, flipping through books of colors splashed over skin. He brings in pictures, ideas, talks to a dozen artists before he finds the right one.

Charlie waits for months, watches Matt move through the days, sees him becoming comfortable again in this place they've built for each other. He waits and he thinks and eventually, when Matt's been home for nearly a year and Charlie is as sure of it as he's going to get, he asks Matt to trust him. And Matt does.


End file.
